


The Art of Sitting Down

by playswithworms



Series: Protectobot Beginnings [8]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-30 05:11:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1014508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/playswithworms/pseuds/playswithworms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Streetwise sure is an observant young mech. Just a short, silly thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Sitting Down

**Author's Note:**

> First published May 2009.

“Mngh oohhhh,” Streetwise groaned, as he sat down with a cube of energon. Wheeljack eyed him in concern. 

“You ok there, kiddo?”

“Sure, Wheeljack,” Streetwise answered with his usual cheerfulness.

“Nothing hurting you or anything, is there?”

“Nope, I feel great!” 

He certainly looked fine, bright-opticed and wiggly as ever as he shifted about on the bench, and Wheeljack didn’t see anything that might indicate damage, but he gave the sparkling a quick scan, just to be safe. First Aid had already shown a rather alarming tendency to not squawk when he was hurt; maybe Streetwise had a similar quirk? Nothing showed up on the scan though, and Wheeljack was further reassured as Streetwise proceeded to pelt him with his usual hailstorm of questions and gulp his energon with good appetite. When the sparkling stood up however, he made the same noise again.

“Mngh oohhhh.” 

“Streetwise, what’s wrong?” 

Streetwise gave him a puzzled look. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Then why are you groaning?”

Streetwise tilted his head in confusion. “Why would I be groaning?” 

“That’s what I’m asking you,” Wheeljack said.

Streetwise brought his optic ridges together in concentration, trying to understand, watching Wheeljack’s face for clues. “You’re asking me that, but I don’t know why, Wheeljack.” 

Wheeljack was beginning to be concerned. They were only five orns old, a bit young to be developing processor glitches, but you never knew. “You don’t know that you were making those sounds?” 

“What sounds?”

“When you sat down, and then when you got up again, you groaned, like something was hurting you.” 

“Oh, that!” Streetwise smiled at him in comprehension, optics glowing happily. “Isn’t that the sound you’re supposed to make? For when you get up and sit down?” he asked, watching Wheeljack now with a bit of worried concern himself.

“The sound you’re supposed to make…” Wheeljack wasn’t sure what to make of that question. At least Streetwise knew he was doing it, and appeared to be doing it on purpose, but where would he get the idea…

“Mngh ohhhh,” came the sound behind him. Wheeljack turned to see Ironhide easing himself down at the next table with his own cube of energon.

“See?” said Streetwise brightly.


End file.
